Hunger, Thirst, Lust and Power
by JustYourAverageCasualFan
Summary: Capital Punishment turns to Capitol punishment as two 'well-known' criminals are pushed together again in the Hunger Games. With romance brewing and mischief afoot follow their story and the story of those they left behind as they unravel the complexities of life, the universe and Valentine Morgenstern. (Features MI, ID and only a few actual HG)
1. Chapter 1- Strychinene

**A/N: So, I'm not sure how far this will go but I'm going to start it anyway. Don't expect everything from the books to be cannon (except pairings) and of course the Hunger Games will have been altered a bit. Reviews would be much appreciated.**

Prologue

**Clary's PoV**

I strutted through the Hob, a bunch of freshly culled ducks slung over my back. I could feel the rhythmic thud of them bouncing against my soft leather jacket as I walked. I drew to a sharp stop and flung myself over Old Mary's rickety table top "Oh, Mary dear I brought you some duck." I sung, smiling at my own joke.  
Unexpectedly, Old Mary leaned over and grasped my pale face, giving me a big sloppy kiss and then ruffling up my flaming curls. Shocked, I froze and spluttered. The whole black market was splitting its sides.

Once I recovered, I held out the Ducks to Old Mary saying "Come on then, enough chatter- we've got work to do."  
"You certainly have." Growled the Peacekeeper, not from my shabby home, District 12, but from somewhere much worse. I could tell he was a foreigner because of his accent- his Capitol accent. I swore as he grabbed my neck roughly, dragging me away from the soup bar and through the Hub, the only sounds my marathon heart and the metal handcuffs biting in to my too skinny wrists.  
"Clary!" the cry came from my right, from my best friend Tessa. She was tall and serious but I knew she could have fun. Her wide eyes were frightened as her boyfriend- and my other best friend- Will pushed her behind himself. He puffed his chest out and stared at the Peacekeeper, who was giving Tessa a malicious look, and then he glanced at me apologetically, worriedly. I don't blame him, he has his priorities so I summoned up a reassuring smile as I was frog marched to the Town Square. My stomach twisted like a spinning top, _this can't be good._

It wasn't. The Peacekeeper, who I'd eventually identified as male, pushed me towards the post in the dead centre of the square. It was much taller than my five foot two and was deeply scarred like those unfortunate enough to find themselves in my position, tied painfully to it. Cruelly, the white clad Peacekeeper brought out a long, deadly looking dagger made in a metal my hunter's fingers longed to touch.  
I put up a bravado "So, this situation feels familiar" all too familiar due to my twisted Father "I wonder if your skill with a whip makes you good in bed?" but it was either that or the Orphanage, where it would be more of the same but from ten different angles.  
Achingly slowly, the Peacekeeper brings up the long blade and then slashes at me. I expect to feel pain but I only receive a few scrapes. I am confused until I notice my clothing falling in shreds around me. I feel sick. A crowd has gathered and I search for familiar faces, hoping I see none but knowing I also hope they will all be there. I need more than one kind of strength to bear me through this, I think as the strands of leather hit me for the first time, opening up small ravines filled with my tainted blood.

In need of something pleasant to think about I search the crowd for my friends and I see them, huddled together, misty eyed but transfixed on the whip and my back. Will has his arms around Tessa although her upset only warrants one in my opinion. Then again, my only ever exploit in to the land of love ended in tears and a kidnapping, my rescue attempt costing my mother her life. My best friends' was a story which was still bitter but decidedly sweeter. Tessa lives in the Seam like me and our families have been intertwined for generations so we spent a lot of time together, which was good but had its drawbacks. Those drawbacks had a name- Nathanial Grey. Mr Grey was Tessa's older brother and as such had to come to my lean to frequently when their Mum had 'work' to do, this meant that he came in to contact with my Father ,Valentine Morgenstern, very often. The thing you have to understand is that my biological Father was poison. He had dreams as big as Panem, dreams which, at essence, were good and profitable but which got twisted in his mind to become wasteful and moreover deadly. Nate fell for Father's pretty packaging, his baits and his ploys and opted in.

For some reason, my Father's plans involved Tessa and, I quote "starting anew. A new species who will not fall short of the Capitol's requirements, who will need to eat a minimum and who can work a maximum. All you need to do is drink this elixir." Valentine was weak, you see, he succumbed to the Capitol's show and became a devout follower of the devil. He was also smart and learned from them. Nate took the Strychnine and delivered Tessa to his master by force. I interceded, awoken by the yells, and managed to knock out my Father but not before he had ordered Nathanial to kill his sister out of rage. In a fit of frustration, Nate followed his orders and was about to shoot a drugged Theresa Grey when he himself was stabbed with a Herondale dagger. It turns out, Will had nurtured the same deep, unrequited feelings as Tessa and hadn't shown them for the simple reason that he couldn't stand to be in the same building or even neighbourhood as a man thrice his age that lusted after one of Will's fellow fifteen year olds. That was a year ago and Valentine is still taking it out on me.

I scream. I was so lost in thought and numbed to the whipping I didn't notice the Peacekeeper unstrap a sword. But he's using that to threaten the irate crowd in to submission because I also didn't see him extract the flamethrower from deep within his armour. But I couldn't care less where he got it from, all that matters is the horrible, ripping, tearing, agonising pain that is rampaging across my back. I pass out to the dank and suffocating smell of charring flesh.

**Jace's PoV**

I spectated from afar, feeling no better than the chirruping Capitol Citizens who took Jem and Alec and Izzy and Max and Marsye and Robert and who were trying to take my old friends away. But I couldn't move, couldn't give her a respectable distance because this was the closest I'd come to her physically in a long time and probably would be for a while because of a few loaves of bread. I saw Will and Tessa embracing to try and shoulder the guilt you always feel when something like this happens. But it does happen, it has happened to all of us. Once or twice Will has taken the hit for Tessa or Clary's taken the hit for me but in the end we all always take the hit, just not physically. Not being able to bear watching the torture, I turn away and drag my lead feet back to the prison, back to the workhouse.

* * *

Chapter One Proper

**Still Jace's PoV**

Reaping day, but not because the Capitol will pick the Tributes this year. They will pick them from a pool of well-known criminals, some kind of sick justice for whey faced old Capitol men, I suppose. For once not segregated from the rest of the District I sat and waited, stoic looking but inside I was a pit of snakes, slithering and seething- a constant nervous churning inside my stomach. I didn't know why, I supposed it was instinct but that worried me because my instincts are barely ever wrong. I looked around but couldn't see anyone except Will. He looked nervous but was trying not to show it in his cold glare, his eyes incessantly flickered to somewhere to his left. He was probably worried about Tessa but I didn't know why- he was more likely to be picked than her. However… I looked at the green fields behind the stage and suddenly I understand. I just hope she returns the favour.

Eventually, a plump woman dressed in what can only be described as a glittering sack of coal wobbled on to the stage and began to introduce the Hunger Games, the Capitol and was just moving on to the so called Dark Days when a whisper from behind the Justice Building induced her to cut to the chase.  
"As selected by the Capitol this year's female Tribute is," she paused, my heart started to beat just that little bit faster "the glamorous," she continued, relishing in the suspense "Clarissa Adele Morgenstern!"  
My heart stopped. It couldn't be her, no way, it wasn't possible. I looked at her as she slinked up the steps and to the woman, her face pale yet set, emerald eyes shining yet steely. The blue dress she wore made her hair look like coils of fiery energy, ready to be loosed on the world at a touch. What could she possibly have done to deserve this? I let out a strangled groan as I realised- there was no volunteering.

I was so wrapped up in my whirl of denial that I barely registered what unfortunate male would have to die that year. Then I heard Will's voice, usually so strong, strangled and hurt "Jace, it's you. You have to…with_ Clary_."  
Shakily, I rose and treaded over to the front. Cheerily, the plump woman made us shake hands. It was the first time I had touched her in the flesh in years and despite the occasion I leapt at the chance, eagerly grasping her delicate hand in my rough, overworked one. I felt a little jolt of electricity that told me I had to die and saw the strong green which commanded me to find another way.

Unceremoniously, I was forced away from Clary and in to a sparsely furnished room within the building. It looked like a cell. _Well_, I thought, _I_ am _a well-known criminal_.


	2. Chapter 2- Descent

**A/N: Thank you to the guest who reviewed and whoever else read the first chapter. We left our favourite characters (if your favourite characters are Clary and Jace) being dragged off in to the justice building. Sorry for not updating quicker, I couldn't get my brother off of the computer. **

Chapter Two

**Will's PoV**

I ran to the justice building, pushing all of my frustration and anger aside for a while and feeling nothing but the rhythmic pounding of my boots on the cracked pavement and the hot in, out, in out of my ragged breaths. I needed that. When I finally reached the towering marble façade a staunch guard, whey faced and hostile, dressed in an ill-fitting peacekeeper's uniform held his hand out by way to stop me. With resignation I stood in front of him, hopping backwards and forwards, fingers twitching. After an age, he released me and I pounded along once more, down twisting corridors furnished with velvet and gilded in gold, then pleasant wallpaper and chrome, then finally I found myself in an unforgiving hallway. It was whitewashed; floor, walls and ceiling hard and cold smelling like smoke and alcohol. I froze. They were keeping my friends in prison cells. I turned around to punch the wall, but I stopped, seeing a figure joining me in the corridor, looking equally horrified.  
"Tessa."  
"Oh, Will." She groaned, hurrying towards me, the knee length skirt of her pretty blue dress swishing. I opened up my arms and we embraced.  
"It's not nice. Not nice at all." I murmured comfortingly. I probably would have said worse but I was worried we were being watched.  
"No it's not." Tess drew back and put on a brave face. "Come on, times almost up. Say good bye to Jace for me." She spun around and practically sprinted to the Peacekeeper guarding one of the cells, standing in front of the thick iron door. Apparently it was the right one and she entered. I trudged over to the other one, suddenly very nervous.

The guard opened the door with a grunt; I smelt his cheap aftershave as I stepped past him. The door closed with a resounding thud, my best friend's head jerked up. I couldn't bear the sight, I spun, began pacing, fidgeting, looking anywhere but at him.  
"Out with it Will." He said. I glanced at him, his mouth was quirked up in to a wistful smile.  
I gulped "You'll hate me."  
"I could never fully hate you Will."  
I squinted and shook my head "Jace, stop being like that. Stop being so emotional, like…"  
"This is the end?" His voice was quiet, contemplating and approachable. It wasn't _him_ and truth be told it scared me more than the prospect of my friends going in to the game.  
"You're not going to, you know." I took a deep breath. Emotions have never really been my forte. "Die for…" I persisted, nodding my head to the side.  
"Would you for Tessa?" I paled; I suppose that was answer enough. "Say it." He grinned triumphantly, flicking his blonde hair back. It reminded me of when we were children and he'd blame the missing apple pie on me.  
"Fine," I groaned "If Tess and I were in the Games I would die for her."  
"Ha!" brief amusement flashed across his face before it was eclipsed by seriousness. "Well, I suppose I'll see you sometime."  
"I'm not going yet!" I exclaimed, possibly a bit too quickly "You haven't spilled your deepest, darkest secrets yet inmate." I smiled "We haven't had a catch up in months."

**Tessa's PoV**

The cell was bare, the walls like the ice that grew on the kitchen floor in winter, the only furniture a decrepit oak chair. Clary was sat on said chair, chin resting on the arch made by her entwined fingers.  
"Hello." She greeted me gloomily, not looking up.  
I felt a twinge in my chest as I swept down on her, grabbing her forearms lightly and hauling her up "Look at me." I instructed "You. Will. Be. Fine."  
She turned her bright eyes to me; I could see the shadows of the beasts that haunted her creep in to her faltering desperation "Are you sure?"  
This was one of the few times that I made the decision to twist the truth for the good of everyone "Yes, you will be fine and come home unscarred and in victory."  
She smiled a bit, sadly "You're lying, lovey." My friend grabbed the hands holding her "I'm not coming home."  
"That is a futile hope."  
Clary winced. Then the mask came off and a torrent of emotion escaped her shaking frame "I know! I know!" she sobbed, collapsing on to me. I stood stock still, shocked. _I_ had always been the weak one, letting my walls down only for a siege to break out resulting in my need to undergo the gargantuan task of rebuilding them. _Clary_ had always been the one who was the rock, living feet away and possessing a godlike tolerance for streaming tears coupled with endless sympathy. In many ways, although we were the same age, she was much younger than me at heart- she was always the one to play pranks, strop when Valentine made her do more chores than… well, dealing with distressed people and generally not taking any crap was the way she was more mature than me.

Once I recovered myself I lowered her down on to the chair. She continued "Jace… Jace… won't let me die… will he?"  
"Probably not, no." I said. It came out a bit too cheery, but it made Clary laugh.  
"You're_ so _not good at this!" she spluttered in that peculiar laughing but bawling in agony state which I've seen quite often.  
"Yeah, well…" I trailed off, remembering why we were in this room. I opened my mouth to speak but was interrupted by the guard striding in and informing me of the fact that I had one minute left "Clary." I said in my most assertive tone "You will talk to Jace. You will work things out. Do you understand?"  
After a few seconds she nodded, an amused smile spreading across her face. I sighed in relief and got up to leave, but I remembered something. I turned around. "One more thing- we'll get you through this. Just think of that." As I walked out of the room I reasserted "We'll get you through this" and to make it seem genuine, put a hand to my heart.

* * *

Twenty minutes later I was trudging back to the Seam next to an equally disheartened William Herondale. The night had turned cold, I shivered in the thin dress- the only reason I'd worn it was because it was the most posh one I had.  
"Cold?" Will asked, looping a warm arm around my shoulders. They were the first words he'd said the entire walk.  
"Yes." I replied, leaning my head on his shoulder "What's on your mind?"  
He didn't reply for a moment and then seemed to steel himself before fully turning to me, bringing us to a halt. "Ok, I thought something bad earlier on today." He admitted, blue eyes sincere.  
_Not again._ I loved Will with all my heart but he wasn't the easiest person to date. "What did you think?" I asked patiently.  
He held my hand in two of his rough ones, to be honest probably so I didn't storm off. Still staring at my hand, he spoke in a rush "I'm glad Clary went in to the Games." I gasped and tried to turn away "Wait! I'm not glad it was Clary but I'm glad it was someone other than you and _I'm ashamed at it_." His voice was deathly quiet by the end of his spiel, he released my hand and waited, probably for me to run away.

I was silent. I didn't want to upset him further because of the circumstances. On the other hand though, he shouldn't have thought that. "Well, I would be glad if it was me."  
"You can't mean that!" he snapped, making to come towards me but rocking back on the first step.  
"I can!" I retorted, I mean I was pretty sure I would…if there was a high probability that Clary would have been selected. "We can't talk about Clary like she's not here." I faltered.  
"She isn't." replied Will blandly.  
"I know," I conceded, whisking up the polluted air with my hands in irritation.  
"Come on, let's just carry on home. I don't think you really want to be out in the evening after reaping day." It was only half a joke, people tended to be relieved and get, let's just say, happy.  
I shook my head, grabbed his hand and proceeded to drag him down the adjacent alley "I know where we need to go and talk this out."  
"You always know." I heard him grumble as I towed him along numerous alleyways, roads and streets in our little shanty town. Finally, our shoes dusty and the night well and truly falling, we approached a weathered crop of shrubs . I checked if the coast was clear before pushing aside the prickly bushes to reveal a wooden panel set in to the ground. Hunkering down I slipped my fingers between the planks and pulls, grunting as I wrestled with the Earth for its release.  
"We really should be getting home." Will sighed, an edge of nervousness to his voice.  
"You'll do anything to get out of discussing your feelings." I grumbled, easing the panel up.  
"That wasn't why I wanted to go home." He whisper-shouted, sounding hurt as the panel eventually became free.  
"Get down there." I instructed my boyfriend, gesturing at the spiralling flight of stairs below us. He did as he was told and I followed suit, repositioning the cover behind me. I turned and unlatched a torch from the rack beside the entrance and lit it, illuminating the darkness. Next I shook off my shoes and tied them around my neck- the stairs were old, hewn from the rock below us, and worn by age so it helped to be able to curl your toes around them as you went to make sure you don't lose your footing.  
"This is a bad idea." Will persisted, the flames of my torch making his hair look like gilded obsidian. I didn't dignify it with a response; I just made my way down the steps, keeping one hand firmly planted on the wall beside me. "Really, Tess…"  
"Really what?" I was getting very annoyed and the phrase came out more like a snarl than I intended.  
"This is what I get for being considerate." Spat Will, eyes hardening, as he grabbed the torch from me and stomped off, leaving me no choice but to follow his decent lest I be cast in to darkness.

This, I reflected, was often the way things were with us. We were both tempestuous, strong headed people with short fuses which meant we were perfect for each other but there was inevitable friction. Mix that with the stresses of our circumstances (the lack of proper nourishment, the ever present threat of the Capitol and the impending obligation to disappear in to dangerous, unstable coal mines for most of the day) and you have a substance so unstable a mere nudge can set off a devastating reaction. That doesn't mean to say I don't treasure our relationship more than any of the meagre materials in my possession.

And so I walked, wrapped up in my thoughts until I reached an ancient double door, made of smooth plastic with two sheets of glass set in to it, thicker at the bottom because, I discovered, glass is actually a very thick liquid so it drips. Will emerged from the shadow in which he was lurking, an apprehensive look on his face. In an attempt to patch things up between us I said "If you don't want to go in we can just leave, come back when we're less hot-headed and more equipped."  
Will just shook his head and forged in.


	3. Chapter 3- Compulsion

A/N: Bear with, the poor surfs don't know what 21st century plastic is. I also apologise for the updating gap and the fact that this chapter is so choppy, but it needs to be to get the story to0 a certain point. Thank you to reviewers.

Chapter Three

**Jace's PoV**

The train was a silver bullet, hurtling onwards at break neck speed, scattering leaves as it went, shaking from side to side like a tree in a hurricane. Or, at least that's what I imagined. In the plush parlour, seated on a vibrant fuchsia sofa next to a distant Clary, all I could feel was rhythmic swaying and a slight sensation of lightness. The only windows, rectangular and set in to the metal hull of the machine, had been shuttered for the night and the singular light source in the hot chamber was a flickering candle, casting a yellow sheen on the acid green throw.  
"That candle is a fire hazard." I commented- I would know, fire safety was the only thing of worth we were taught in our dusty school.  
"Hmm." Clary agreed  
I turned to face her and paused, caught off guard by the way the soft illumination brought out streaks of gold in her coppery wisps, the way her eyelashes created fine shadows on her delicate cheekbones. Eventually I salvaged my voice and, with my courage renewed from the luxury of simply gazing at her, asked her "Why are you so quite?"  
She merely frowned.  
"Come on, you can trust me." I coaxed, hesitantly lifting a finger and turning her head towards me. She froze, meadow eyes widening. My breath caught "You can trust me." I insisted quietly, hopefully.  
"Yeah, I can." I sighed silently in relief, realising that actually I did need, desperately, for Clary to trust me…

* * *

The district gaol was never meant to be used to pen people in. To hold them for a while, yes, but that looming, utilitarian concrete building was never meant to keep us in, keep_ me_ in. It was woefully in-equipped, the winding corridors crumbling, grey tiles falling down at unpredictable moments. The walls and floors and food and people were coated in a cloying greyish slime, all colour was drained from the building like it was coal dust. On the other hand, red did alleviate the boredom in a twisted way. Who has the most red on them? When will the next scarlet streaked thief stumble in, numb fingered and ready to collapse in a heap on the floor- if they were so lucky? What amount of crimson will I leak next time the inspector comes? My sole sustenance was the sheet of paper (or less) I received on occasion from Clary. In a way, she was partially what got me in to the gaol but she was also my ticket out, at least in my longing dreams. She brought me news of the others, our little family of street urchins, and of her. I felt, knew really, that she was listening. She could hear my pain through the pleasant lies of routine, care and firm rehabilitation and in return I would listen to her, through everything. I became even more attached to her than I was and in some ways my interrupted confession was even more true than before I was thrown on the cell floor. But I agonised over her, more specifically her feelings for me or potential lack thereof.

* * *

My musings were brought to an end by Clary's voice, it was hesitant as she asked "Jace… are you, you know, planning to…" she broke off and waved her hands around in the air a bit "…for me?"  
"What?"  
She rolled her eyes "Are you planning on one of us winning?"_ Oh_ , I thought "If so which one?"  
I turned in to her intense stare and replied with the simple truth "You. But only if you ask me to."  
Clary froze. She laughed somewhat hysterically as I watched in apprehension, half afraid of her answer. Finally she spoke "I'd never do that! To think…"

**Will's PoV**

I barged through the door, probably scraping off more of the artfully blockish red words, and marched straight in, not checking to see if Tessa was following me. My eyes darted around, scanning for threats or anything out of the ordinary. A couple of torches were lit next to the door, but they were fixed so all I could see in their glow was row upon row of thin silver devices with wires inserted in to them, resting on thick sheets of some kind of weird un-magnetic metal. I peered forwards in to the gloom and tried to spot any other lit torches, but there were none. Damn. "Tessa, stay close to me." I instructed.  
"Why?" she asked from behind me "Oh." She breathed in realisation, sidestepping me to grasp the full gravity of the situation. Tess placed one of her delicate hands on my cheek, grey eyes boring in to mine "I'm sorry_. _Ioverreacted. We should go."  
I clenched my jaw, default anger flooding my self-control and ripping through my frayed nerves- we'd trekked all the way in to the catacomb library and she wanted to leave because there _was no light? _"Oh, we should go now?" I yelled, pushing her away from me "What, are you too scared? Too straight laced? Too much like your brother?" I was taunting her; playing on her weaknesses in blind frustration and hurt- I regretted ever opening my mouth the second I saw the hurt cross her face, the minute the tears welled up in her gorgeous eyes, the moment she turned and ran in to the dark.

Before I knew it I was on the floor, knees drawn up to my chest like a child. I ran my hands through my black hair in exasperation and desolation. I stared at the flame balanced between my knees: it flickered, burning brighter than ever before but as soon as it had grown it was cut down again. Depressingly, it was much like my relationship with a certain Tessa Grey. I shuffled back against the cold concrete wall and waited. If Tessa didn't turn up soon I would go and look for her. To be honest, I thought the latter would be more likely.

**Clary's PoV**

I lay on the bed, clawing at the fancy sheets in aggravation, even though they were softer than any I had. Softer than any I'd actually slept on, that is. Stupid boy! What was he thinking? That I would just walk carelessly in to the Hunger Games and slaughter anyone in my way until I was the lone survivor, probably. Well, he's got another thing coming to him. _Knock knock. _That'd be the sound the judges mallet would make, sealing my fate. Except it wasn't a hammer, just an expressionless Capitol attendant summoning me to dinner. As I slithered past him – a little too close- my eyelashes found themselves battering and I sustained eye contact a little longer than was strictly necessary. I suppose, in a way it was a compulsion of mine. Another reason why any male who claimed an attachment to me wasn't to be trusted.

**Will's PoV**

The scream came after about fifteen minutes of waiting. It was high, throaty and grating, reverberating through my head like a gong; the worst thing though, by far, was that the scream was Tessa's. I was running before I had consciously decided to.

All I could think of as I pelted across the floor, dodging patches not coated with grey carpet, was that it was my fault. If something happened to Tessa it was my fault because_ I_ was the one that pushed her away, _I_ was the one that didn't follow her in to the dark, _I_ was the one who wasn't there to protect her.  
_"Will!"_ Tessa screamed, she was only a few meters away "Will, if you can hear me ru…!" her plea was cut off sharply. Ice began to seep in to my soul as I unsheathed the small knife on my hip. Finally, I rounded the last corner and gasped. Twenty-odd _things _were crowding the aisle; humanoid bodies- mutated a phosphorescent green colour. In amongst the broil I saw skeletal wings, fangs twice as long as my meagre knife. There were at least two with multiple heads.

I froze, unsure of what to do. I was certain the love of my life was in their midst and with all my heart I wanted to throw myself in to the fray and save her but my tactician's head knew that wouldn't work. I gulped. The things would notice me soon, then we'd both die down here. At least we wouldn't need burying. My last shred of hope was about to be lost, overridden by treacherous primitive instincts, when a pale arm clad in shredded blue appeared next to my foot. I swooped down and grabbed the hand: Tessa's hand, pulse and all. I could have cried. Swiftly, I pulled her out and grabbed her, frantically looking her up and down for any injuries.  
"Will!" her voice was little more than a whisper but to me, in that situation, it was like she'd yelled across a valley.  
"Tess." I replied. That was when the Things noticed us, eyeless heads turning to us in synchronisation "Run!" I hollered, pushing Tessa behind me.

We sprinted for ten minutes, the Things on our tail. Once or twice, one of us tripped and the other skidded to a halt to help against the vehement protests of the other. It looked like we were going to make it until we sprung around a corner to find half of the Things had been dispatched to wait at the other end. My eyes, wide with fear but mostly not for me, locked on to Tessa's as the beasts advanced slowly, savouring our plight. Suddenly, Tessa grabbed my shoulder and shoved me towards the shelves nearest to me "Climb!" she whispered urgently, stepping up next to me. So I did.

We were only a meter away from the top when calamity struck. I was moving my hand up a rung when a sudden tug at my foot displaced me and I was flying down, what felt like hundreds of cloying paws dragging me towards their gaping mouths. I groaned as one of my hands broke.  
"Will!" I heard her shout and my heart clenched- I didn't want to leave her like that.  
Then I stopped. Tessa had grabbed my hand and for a second I let out a sigh of relief. Then I examined the situation further and my heart sank because she was only holding on with one hand and that hand was slipping, long delicate fingers straining under her weight and mine. My choice was a no-brainer, me or both of us; I let go.

However, I didn't fall. "Will!" she grunted, straining "Just hold my hand. It isn't hard; you've done it plenty before."  
Trust Tessa to joke when she could be about to die "NO!" I was determined and she was slipping further "Let go!"  
She shook her head, wincing "Grab on to the shelf quickly!"  
"No, Tess, darling Tessa" it wasn't often I used the endearment but it was special- the word my Mother would use when talking quietly with my Father beside the fire "I love you, I'd die for you! _Please." _  
"Well I love you too, which is why I'm not letting go." She said this all very fast, between laboured breaths "Grab on to the shelf!"  
"I can't!" it was agony to say it, to admit there was nothing I could do to help her "My hands broken and they have my feet! Save yourself! Let me go!"  
"Never." Tessa paused, I could almost hear the cogs turning in her head over the growling of the Things "Kick them, I'll try and pull us up."

I nodded grimly and flung my legs out, blindly attacking whatever came near me. Slowly, I began to rise until my hand was over hers on a sheet of non-metallic metal that wasn't occupied by a reading device. I turned my head. She did the same. We lent our foreheads against each other's for a sweet second and then she began to climb again, ordering me to "wait there" so she could help me. I didn't know how that would work, but I didn't care because with every rung of our makeshift ladder she ascended the safer she was and that's all that I ever wanted.


End file.
